


Contract

by orphan_account



Category: Dragon Age
Genre: Alternate Universe, Kink Meme, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-06
Updated: 2011-06-06
Packaged: 2017-10-20 05:08:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/209075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for a prompt on the Dragon Age kink meme:</p>
<p>"I know we all love wildchild!Sebastian, but I was wondering what would happen when wildchild!Seb was forced to grow up, and not the Chantry way.</p>
<p>Sebastian's family disowns him and throws him out but doesn't put him in the Chantry, so suddenly he's out of money and out of a support system. He does grow up, but not through a life of piety but a life of crime, becoming a ruthless assassin. Assassin!Sebastian meets Hawke (maybe they have the same target?). Sex of the passionate and violent variety eventually ensues."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Contract

Sebastian’s first impression of Kirkwall was not a pleasant one. It was all buildings stacked on top of one another, air ripe with the smell of fish and waste, and winding streets that seemed to turn in on themselves. The streets were dirty, and the people in them even dirtier.

His mark was a Kirkwall nobleman named Hartwell, who had angered some-or-other shady merchant who apparently did not take kindly to being scammed out of his dues. Sebastian cared little for the reason behind the kill - it was a job to get done so he could get paid. If he was lucky this bleak city would at least have some reasonably cheap taverns where he could spend said pay, for what reason was there to work, if he couldn’t reap the rewards?

He spent most of the first day on foot, moving around Kirkwall to learn its layout. He found Hightown - where his mark lived - to be more to his taste, but he didn’t linger long after scouting it out, deciding that it would be safer to keep a low profile. Instead he went to Lowtown to find some inn to set up base. He ended up at an inn called the Hanged Man, thinking it was a fitting enough place for him - seeing that he’d probably end up as a hanged man himself. Hopefully not for a while yet, though.

The ale served at the inn tasted mostly like what he imagined horse piss would, and most of the clientele smelled like it, but even so he found himself relaxing. In a place like this no one would look twice at him and his dirty cloak and worn leather. He had opted for leaving his bow in his room, but he still had one dagger hidden in his boot  and one strapped to his arm under his shirt, just in case.

He had just started on his second flagon when the door slammed open and a curious group of people entered. One would think that the elf with the huge broadsword at his back and strange markings on his face would be the one to attract his attention, or possibly the dark skinned woman whose tight bodice did nothing to conceal her assets... But instead Sebastian found himself intently watching the bearded man who apparently was the leader of the gang - clad in leathers not unlike his own, with messy black hair and eyes that was continuously darting around, even as he laughed and joked with his companions. He had an aura about him that piqued Sebastian’s interest.

“Hawke!” a voice called out, loud and close enough to Sebastian to make him jump in his seat. A dwarf moved down the stairs leading to the rooms in back, and the black-haired man that was the focus of Sebastian’s attention turned and waved with a grin. 

“Varric, you’re just in time for Diamondback!” the man called back.

Sebastian overheard the dwarf mutter something about cheaters before he was out of earshot. He followed the dwarf with his eyes as he walked over to buy a drink and then join the others at the table, and suddenly realized that he was being watched back. The man they had called Hawke was staring at him across the room. Not wanting to draw attention to himself - being noticed was bad when you were in the sneaking and stabbing business - Sebastian quickly looked down into his watered out poor excuse for beer, but he thought he noticed the man smirking at him. He felt a stirring of interest downstairs but forced it down - no _celebrating_ until after the job, that was his motto. So far it had served well to keep his clients happy and himself out of too serious trouble, and he intended to keep it that way.  
  
Deciding that the ale was hardly worth the trouble of swallowing it anyway, he abandoned what remained in his tankard and retreated back to the room he had hired.

 

***

The next day Sebastian left early, heading back to Hightown.

It took him only a few discreet questions rewarded with coin to find out what the noble looked like and where he lived. He found a bench from which he could watch the mark’s front door, and sat down with a book he had procured in the Hightown market as cover. 

He didn’t have to wait long before the door opened, and two men in chainmail exited, followed by a man who had to be Lord Hartwell. The man had a shock of orange hair that clashed terribly with the green silk doublet he was wearing, and he was pale as though he had never stepped foot outside his house before.

Sebastian shadowed the men across Hightown, until they turned into an alleyway and stopped to enter a building. Sebastian followed into the alley when the door shut behind them and looked around. On the opposite side from the door was a low roof where someone had stacked a bunch of crates. He could position himself up there, and be ready to take the man out with an arrow when he came back out. It should be a small thing then to escape over the rooftops and blend back in with the crowd in the market.

This time he had to wait longer - after about an hour and a half he started to wonder if there was possibly another exit to the building but if there was one thing this profession had taught him, it was patience. He smiled to himself as he figured a younger version of himself would be more likely to charge the building, bow in hand, without a thought to how many enemies might wait for him inside. The wild child he had been wouldn’t have made it two weeks as an assassin.

A loud creak as the door opened caught his attention. Quickly, with controlled movements, he pulled an arrow from the quiver next to him, and drew his bow. The two bodyguards from before stepped out, followed by his mark, followed by half a dozen mercenaries or so.

_Damn_ , he muttered to himself, trying to get a clean shot at the noble. A single shot would be all he needed, but the mercenaries moved about, obstructing his view... Sebastian held his breath. _Almost, almost... Just a little to the left,  come on, move...!_

His concentration was broken suddenly by a yell from the entrance to the alley. 

“There he is!”

“Get him!”

Charging in from the street was the man from the tavern, Hawke, along with the elf and the dwarf called Varric, as well as a blonde man in a robe, carrying a staff.

_Maker’s balls_ , thought Sebastian, watching incredulously as the quartet charged the gang of mercenaries and thugs, mever minding that they were outnumbered two to one.

Hawke in combat was amazing to behold. He used the cover provided by Fenris’ charging in and swinging his enormous sword around in wide sweeps to move unnoticed behind the nearest enemy, slicing his throat without a seconds hesitation, before rushing the next one, felling him with a kick to the knee. His daggers seemed to be everywhere at once, stabbing and slicing and parrying blows. 

At the back of the group was the dwarf, firing his crossbow with a speed that made Sebastian just a little jealous, and next to him the man in the robe was firing sizzling blasts of energy from the tip of his staff. From the looks of things this wasn’t the first time these people were in a fight together - they worked as a team, watching each other’s backs as the thugs went down one by one.

The nobleman had backed further into the alley, one mercenary taking up position in front of him armed with a bow. Sebastian saw him draw it and try to take aim at Hawke, who was making himself a hard target moving swiftly from enemy to enemy. However, a kick to his back sent the rogue tumbling, and Sebastian almost called out a warning when it looked like the archer had a clean shot. Suddenly, the air cracked with energy, Sebastian could feel the hair at the back of his neck stand on end, and then a bright flash nearly blinded him as the mercenary with the bow was struck square in the chest by a bolt of lightning fired by the mage, and went down like a log.

A few moments later, the only ones standing in the street below was Hawke, his three companions, and Lord Hartwell, who was looking more panicked by the second as the gang closed in on him. Hawke was still holding his weapons and he was covered in blood to his elbows. He sheathed one dagger and grabbed the man by the neck of his tunic.

“Where are they?” Hawke snarled, his blade now merely inches from the man’s face.

“Where are who?” replied the man, trying to mask his fear with arrogance, but Sebastian could see him shaking in his breeches even from his place on the roof.

Hawke turned to the mage at his side. “Look, he’s trying to play stupid, isn’t that precious?”

“Play, nothing” replied the mage, crossing his arms over his chest. “He’s the real deal. Doesn’t see imminent death even if you wave it in his face. Literally.”

“Listen up”, said Hawke to the noble. “I’ll break it down into small words that even you can understand.  
Tell me where the two elven kids you had kidnapped are, _or I will kill you_ _._ ”

“You’re too late” the man sneered. “By now those knife eared brats are on a ship halfway to Tevinter, in slavery where they belong.”

_Wrong answer_ , thought Sebastian.

“Wrong answer”, said Hawke. He let go of the man and straightened his back. “Fenris?”

The elf stepped forward, his face twisted in cold rage. 

“You will never sell a child into slavery again. _Die_!”

Sebastian had to hold in a gasp when he saw Fenris suddenly glow blue, lift his hand, and put it clean through the nobleman’s chest. The man’s scream quickly deteriorated into a gurgling noise as blood gushed from his mouth. The elf let go of him and he sagged to the ground, lifeless.

“Come on, lets go.” Hawke turned to leave.

_Shit, they killed my mark._ He could still try and cash it in, act as though he had killed him as intended.... But unlikely as it seemed there was a small chance Hawke too had been hired to take the man out, and that might land Sebastian in some serious trouble if he lied to his client. Better then to call them out on it, and maybe share the reward. He made a quick decision, grabbed his bow and dropped from the roof down to the street below.

“Wait!” he called after the retreating group. They stopped and turned. When Fenris saw Sebastian and the bow in his hands he drew his sword, lightning quick, and took a step forward to put himself between Hawke and Sebastian.

“Why have you killed this man?” 

“Friend of yours?” said Hawke, his tone light, but Sebastian noticed his hand went to the dagger at his hip.

“Hardly. Lets just say he had a prize on his head.”

Hawke’s eyes narrowed. “How large a prize?”

“Twenty sovereigns”, Sebastian lied. 

“And here I go around killing people for free”, muttered Hawke.

Sebastian couldn’t help but chuckle. 

“In that case, I’ll gladly take the credit for the kill, and share half the reward with you. Here.” He dug out ten sovereigns from his pouch. “Deal?”

“Deal”, said Hawke, stepping closer. “Hey, don’t I know you from somewhere?”

  


***

  
It was Varric’s idea that they would all head back to the Hanged Man, “to get their minds off things.” Sebastian tagged along since he was going there anyway, and he figured he at least owed them a round of drinks, seeing how he had just cheated them out most of the reward for the mark. Well, what Hawke didn’t know couldn’t hurt him, and would probably hurt him even less after a few beers.

They all sat down at the table Sebastian figured was the gang’s usual. He soon learned that  the mage’s name was Anders, and the dark skinned beauty from the night before was Isabela. He was squeezed in between her and Hawke -  _flanked by whats possibly the two deadliest and most attractive people in Kirkwall. I guess even I can be lucky sometimes._

“So... Sebastian was it?” Hawke said after they had all received their first round of drinks. Sebastian had opted for rum instead of ale this time at Isabela’s recommendation (“You don’t honestly intend to drink that swill? It tastes worse than seawater and is as likely to get you drunk!”).

“Sebastian Vael. At your service.”

Hawke smirked at that. “Are you a Crow, then? You don’t exactly sound Antivan.”

“I’m from Starkhaven.”

Varric spat out his drink. “ _That_ Vael?"

_Damn, I should have held my tongue._

Sebastian nodded, and Hawke sent Varric a questioning look.

“Hawke, I have the pleasure to present you with his lordship Sebastian Vael, son to the prince of Starkhaven, third in line to the throne.”

“Actually, Sebastian replied, “I was thrown out and disowned. So just Sebastian will do.”

“A blue blooded assassin? May wonders never cease.” Hawke was grinning at him and raised his glass in salute.

“I went to Starkhaven once”, said Isabela. “Didn’t stay long, couldn’t find a decent bar anywhere.”

“You obviously weren’t looking in the right places” Sebastian replied.

After the fourth refill of his glass Sebastian realized he was well on his way to getting drunk. Isabela was entertaining him with seafaring stories - to hear her talk, you could easily believe there was no ocean he hadn’t sailed, no raiders she hadn’t been in battle with. She was recounting a story of how she had procured her first ship when Sebastian suddenly became aware of the length of Hawke’s leg, pressed against his, hot and unyielding. He glanced to his left.

  
“And so I’m thinking,” said Varric, “whatever had led up to him standing behind the outhouse, pantless and covering his privates by means of standing in a barrel - that was a story I just had to hear.”

Varric paused in his storytelling to take a sip from his mug, and Sebastian could  _feel_ Hawke chuckle to his left.

“Go on,” the rogue said, “I’m still waiting to hear what this had to do with the comtessa.”

Sebastian couldn’t follow along with the story, the liquor was making his head spin, and the heat of Hawke’s leg pressed up against his own was making it hard to think. Then Hawke’s hand was on his thigh, and whatever thought he had been trying to hold on to fled him in a rush of arousal.

Hawke was pretending not to pay him any mind, focused on Varric, but his hand was stroking Sebastians leg, down to his knee and then back up, up and Sebastian squirmed as those fingers were inches from his already half hard cock... Then the hand disappeared.

Sebastian rose abruptly.

“I’m going to... Get some air.”

Isabela moved to let him pass. He walked swiftly to the door, and in the corner of his eye he saw Hawke smirk.

***

  
_I wish to discuss a business proposal. Be at this address tonight. - Hawke._

Sebastian crumpled the note in his hand and looked around. According to the map Hawke had scribbled in the margin this was the address, but really, why would the man arrange to meet him in such a fancy mansion? And what were his motives? 

Sebastian had a nagging feeling that the man was going to cause him nothing but trouble, but he just couldn’t resist.  _At least I’m walking into trouble with my eyes open, right?_

He knocked loudly on the front door. 

A dwarf opened. “Ahh, serrah Vael? Come in, come on in! Master Hawke is expecting you.”

_What is this, then?_

His jaw nearly dropped when he saw Hawke descend the stairs. The scruffy rogue from yesterday was gone - this was a young nobleman through and through, dressed in well tailored silks that were elegant but not too flashy. The emblem of his house was embroidered on his back.

Sebastian grinned. “Serrah Hawke, it is such a great delight to be back in your company.” He topped his pompous greeting off with a curly bow.

Hawke laughed. “Oh, come off it.”

“So much for trying to score easy points with the whole nobleman-gone-rogue thing. Seems it’s not all that unique around here.”

“I may not be a disinherited prince, but on the other side I can add ‘apostate father’ to my merits.” Hawke gestured for Sebastian to follow.

“I’m impressed!”

Hawke led him into a dining room, where a light dinner was already set on the table. “Hungry?” Hawke didn’t wait for Sebastian to answer, but sat down and reached for the bread. 

Sebastian joined him at the table. “So, there was something you wished to discuss?”

“Straight to the point, aren’t you. Very well.” The smile disappeared from Hawke’s face, and he pulled a folded parchment from his pocket. 

“Lord Desmond Callahan. Lord Alexander Valerian. Lady Belinda Maurice. Ser Martin of Lanshire.” Hawke’s voice was cold as he read the names off the paper. “These four are well-known nobles of Kirkwall, who have all experienced a recent increase in wealth and power. What most don’t know is that their wealth comes from dealing with Tevinter slavers. Dear Lord Hartwell that you offed yesterday was only the tip of the ice berg.”

Hawke put the paper down. 

“As much as I enjoy killing slavers,” he said, “I think it’s high time I went after the source of the problem. And thus I would like to employ your services.”

Sebastian leaned back in his chair and gazed at Hawke. 

“You do realize how risky that would be?” he said. “If Lord Hartwell was in league with them they will probably be alarmed now, raise security.”

“Of course. Which is why I’m considering something other than my usual style of just rushing in, weapons drawn.” Hawke sent him a shit-eating grin.

Sebastian was tempted, but he was also in a great dilemma. Four marks would normally cost someone two hundred sovereigns, or even more for a high risk job like this one, but he had lied about the price to Hawke...  _Damn it all._

“Why don’t you ask your companions? They seemed like formidable fighters.”

“My friends are all very good at what they do, but none of them would have the stomach for straight out assassination.”

Sebastian hesitated. _I shouldn’t do this - it’s way too great a risk..._

“One hundred sovereigns”, he heard himself say.

“Eighty”, said Hawke, “and I’m coming with you.”

***

  
Sebastian grunted in pain as a heavy boot pressed between his shoulder blades, pushing him against the floor. In the corner of his eye he could see Hawke in a similar position, hands twisted behind his back and held down by a guard in heavy mail.

Sebastian cursed to himself. _Figures that our luck had to run out sometime_.

Their mission had started out so well. Sebastian and Hawke had met up in Hightown a couple of hours after midnight. Hawke had dressed in dark leather armor, soft boots laced to his knees and pants so tight it would probably had been considered a crime in Starkhaven. A scrap of cloth covered most of his face and he had a hood pulled over his hair. Sebastian had to remind himself to stay focused on the job, lest he’d spend more time staring at Hawke’s ass than looking out for guards. _Damn_.

The first target had been Valerian, whose front door was guarded on the outside by a single mercenary. Sebastian had taken him down with an arrow through the throat, and Hawke rushed forward to grab the body and lower it gently to avoid making noise. Together they lifted the man and hid him in a dark corner. The door to the mansion was locked, but that was hardly a challenge for Hawke’s lockpicking skills. Within minutes they were inside.

There were apparently more guards in the building, but judging from the noise emanating from the kitchen they were far too busy playing cards to notice the intruders. It didn’t take the duo long to locate the master bedroom and sneak inside. After making sure that the man sleeping in the bed was indeed Alexander Valerian, Hawke covered the man’s mouth with his hand, and stabbed him through the heart.

Sebastian raised an eyebrow at him.

“What?” said Hawke.

“I would have figured you the type who’d want to talk to him before killing him. Make sure he regretted what he did, and all that.”

“What’s the use of preaching to a dead man? What I’m trying to do here is to dissuade others from wanting to make a living selling people.”

“You have a point there.” Sebastian watched as Hawke pulled a piece of paper from his pocket, and snatched an arrow from Sebastian’s quiver. He used the arrow to nail the paper to the chest of the now dead Lord Valerian.

“ _Kirkwall will not tolerate slavers in its midst_ ”, Sebastian read over Hawke’s shoulder. “ _May any man who would deprive another of his freedom for profit suffer the same fate_.”

“Some of these nobles are pretty stupid”, Hawke said. “I wanted to make sure no one would miss the point.”

On their way out they were inches away from being discovered by a guard, who was apparently taking a break from the card game to visit the privy. Sebastian barely managed to grab Hawke and haul him round a corner, where they pressed themselves against a wall, trying not to make a sound. Sebastian’s blood was pumping pure adrenaline, his heart beating so hard he thought the guard had to hear it, but the man just walked right by them and went through a door at the end of the hall. Once the door had closed behind him they wasted no time sneaking out.

Their next target was Belinda Maurice. Her mansion had two guards stationed at both the front and the back door, but they spotted an open window on the second floor with a balcony under it, which they could climb up to from an unwatched side street. Hawke was the first to peer into the lit room, and quickly lowered his head again, hand covering his mouth. 

Sebastian sent him a questioning look, and Hawke leaned close enough that Sebastian could feel his beard tickling his cheek.

“Belinda is in there, in bed, with a man.” Hawke’s words were barely audible, and his his breath was warm against Sebastians ear. “The man is Desmond Callahan.”

Sebastian stifled a laugh. How could they possibly be that lucky?

Hawke reached up and carefully opened the window wider. Now Sebastian could hear   
noises  
from inside, the sound of a man grunting with pleasure. Hawke went in first, and as Sebastian followed he saw the man, Desmond, push Belinda away from where she had been positioned between his legs, enthusiastically sucking him off.  “What are you-” she began, but gave a startled yell when she saw the two men who had just climbed in through her window.

Callahan scrambled for his sword, discarded on the floor along with his clothes, but was met with a kick in the face from Hawke. Seconds later he sagged to the ground, Hawke’s dagger between his ribs. By then Sebastian had drawn his bow, and Belinda went down as well.

“Almost too easy, don’t you think?” Hawke asked as he pinned identical notes on the two corpses, and then they were out the window again.

The last mark looked just as easy too. Ser Martin’s front door was locked, but no guards could be seen anywhere. Full of confidence they went quickly through the unlit mansion, Hawke leading the way as he seemed familiar with the building’s layout. 

He stopped outside a closed door at the end of a hallway. “This should be it”, he whispered to Sebastian and moved to open the door, and that was when their luck ran out.

On the other side of that door was a room full of armed guards, three of them pointing crossbows in their faces. Hawke didn’t even have time to draw his daggers, before two guards bore down on him and he was knocked over. Sebastian quickly suffered the same fate, and found himself between the floor and a heavy boot pushing him down.

“Seems it wasn’t just paranoia on Ser Martin’s part”, said the guard who was pinning Hawke to the ground. “Puck, go wake him up.”

Sebastian saw Hawke’s eyes widen as a guard at the back of the room nodded and left.

“Rowan?” Hawke gasped. The guard on top of him looked down in suprise.

“Andrastes flaming - “ The guard called Rowan reached down and pulled away the cloth covering Hawke’s face. “ _Hawke_!?”

Sebastian couldn’t believe his eyes as the guard moved off Hawke and allowed him to sit up.

“By the Maker’s hairy balls, Hawke, what are you doing here?”

“Trying to kill a bastard that damn well has it coming, and you better step aside and let me do it!”

“Hawke... You know I can’t do that. Meeran would flay me alive for not finishing the job.”

“Look. Whatever Martin pays you I’ll double it. Leave Meeran to me, I know how to deal with him.”

Rowan hesitated. “I don’t know...”

“You still owe me after that thing with the Coterie. Help me kill this lowlife, and you can consider your debt cleared.  _And_ you’ll be richer for it.”

Sebastian watched in awe as Rowan nodded and gestured for Sebastian to be released, just as the door was flung opened and a man, who Sebastian assumed was Ser Martin, entered.

“What in Andraste’s name are you worthless cretins doing? _Kill them!_ ” Martin shouted, but none of the guards made any move as Hawke pulled his dagger and drove it into Martin’s stomach.

“Damn... Mercenaries... “ he wheezed, and then toppled over, dead. 

The guard who had been sent to fetch Martin was watching the scene with bulging eyes. “What is going on here?  _Hawke_ ?”

Hawke wiped his dagger on Martin’s shirt and stood. 

“Long story, explain later.” He placed a copy of his note on the corpse. “Rowan. Go talk to Meeran, tell him what happened. If he starts making noise, just tell him how much money you just made him. Now, lets get out of here.”

Hawke and Sebastian left the mansion first, moving quickly through dark streets towards Hawke’s home. 

“Who was that?” Sebastian asked as they hurried along.

“Red Iron mercenaries. I used to work with them a couple of years back. Meeran is their leader.”

Suddenly Hawke stopped, nearly causing Sebastian to collide with him. He leaned against a nearby wall, and Sebastian could see his eyes glimmer in the dark as he grinned. 

“Damn”, said Hawke. “That was close.” He clutched his chest. “I thought we were done for.”

“Yeah.” Sebastian took a step closer. His heart was hammering in his chest. “If you hadn’t recognized that guy...”

Hawke’s eyes flashed at him, and then Sebastian felt himself be grabbed and pushed up against the wall. Hawke’s body pressed against his own, and the pounding of blood in his ears became a roar as Hawke’s lips pressed against his.

The kiss was rough, all teeth and tongue and adrenaline, and he could  _feel_ Hawke moan into his mouth while grinding his hips against him. Sebastian moved his hands to grab Hawke’s ass, but then a shout from a street nearby caused them both to freeze in place.

“ _Shit_ ”, muttered Hawke, and untangled himself from the archer.

An answering cry echoed between houses, and they could hear the sound of running feet.

“Look, we better split up”, said Hawke in a hushed voice. “I’m going back home. You can come and hide out there if you want, but it would probably be safer to leave Hightown.”

Sebastian nodded. “I’ll go back to the Hanged Man.”

“Be careful”, Hawke said, and then he was gone.

***

  
Sebastian made it back to the Hanged man without issue.

He was exhausted by the time he entered his room, and barely had the energy to remove his clothes before collapsing on the bed.

But sleep would not come.

Instead he saw Hawke’s face in front of him, Hawke’s hands gripping the hilt of a dagger, Hawke’s body moving fluently in battle... Hawke pushing him up against a wall and kissing him senseless.

Sebastian took a deep breath and gripped himself through his smallclothes.

This wasn’t like him, to be so fixated on one man. Normally he would take his pleasure with the least amount of effort - a tumble with this waitress or that mercenary, or a visit to the brothel when the impulse struck. Man or woman didn’t matter, as long as they were attractive.

But this was somehow different - he realized Hawke was wrapping him around his little finger, but was helpless to do something about it.

Sebastian removed his last piece of clothing. I should just fuck him and get it over with. He wondered what the man would look like naked. Would he have hair on his chest? Would his body be pale, or as tan as his face? What would he sound like when Sebastian.... When Sebastian crawled between his spread legs, and ran his tongue along his cock...?

The archer started to stroke himself in earnest, gasping a little when his hand slid over the sensitive crown. I bet he has a filthy mouth. Telling me to take it deeper, suck it like I enjoy it...

It didn’t take him long. Soon he was bucking into his hand and coming with a groan, seed coming in bursts over his stomach and chest. 

He barely had the presence of mind to wipe himself off with a corner of the sheets, and then he was out like a light.

***

Sebastian thought it  best to stay in his room the next day, only going out to fetch food and drink. That evening he was sitting at the room’s small desk writing a letter to his contact about the contract on Hartwell when there was a knock on the door.

It wasn’t until he opened and saw Hawke standing outside that he realized how worried he had been that he would have been caught.

“You made it back undetected, then”, said Hawke. “Good. Can I come in?”

Sebastian just nodded and stepped aside to let Hawke pass. He had barely managed to close the door and turn around when Hawke pushed him up against it. 

When they kissed it was every bit as desperate as it had been before. Sebastian moaned as Hawke bit down on his lower lip, and then Hawke’s tongue was in his mouth, exploring and tasting until Sebastian was panting for breath. He could feel Hawke’s hands struggle with his belt, loosen it, and slip a hand down his pants to cup him through his smallclothes. Sebastian threw his head back with a groan, ignoring how his head knocked against the wood of the door. Hawke’s mouth latched onto his neck, kissing and biting lightly as he rubbed the archer’s hardening cock.

As soon as Sebastian could form a coherent thought his hands went to unlace Hawke’s breeches. The rogue was wearing nothing underneath, and Maker, he was _big_.

“Bed, now” said Hawke in a hoarse voice. Somehow they managed to shed most of their clothes on their way to the bed, and Hawke went down first, Sebastian on top. Both men groaned as Sebastian lined up their cocks and bucked his hips, caused them to rub against each other. Hawke’s hands went to his ass, squeezing his buttocks until his nails bit into the skin, but the pain only made the pleasure sweeter.

Sebastian looked down at Hawke. His eyes were closed, lower lip caught between his teeth and brow furrowed as in concentration. Suddenly the archer remembered the fantasy he had been entertaining while jerking off the night before - of sucking off Hawke, and now he could do just that...

He disentangled himself from Hawke’s grip, and started trailing kisses down the man’s chest, closing his lips over a nipple and teasing it with teeth and tongue. From the noises Hawke was making he really liked that - and Sebastian let himself be sidetracked, pausing to give the other nipple the same sort of treatment. But then he felt Hawke’s cock twitch against his stomach, and he couldn’t wait any longer - with  a swift movement he settled himself between the rogue’s spread legs. 

Hawke’s member rose proudly from a nest of black curls, both longer and thicker than his own, a bead of precum formed at the tip. Gently he dragged this thumb across the tip, smearing the liquid out. Then Hawke’s hand was on the back of his head, silently egging him on, and Sebastian wrapped his lips around the head.

“Oh Maker, _yes_ ”, groaned Hawke, grabbing a fistful of Sebastian’s hair. Sebastian settled into a slow but steady rhytm, hand wrapped around the shaft, taking as much of him in as could fit in his mouth. He loved doing this - loved the taste, the feel of a lover sliding into his mouth, loved how he could make them writhe and moan with his lips and tongue.

“Wait”, said Hawke, tugging on his hair. “Turn over, this way.” He guided Sebastian into a position where he could return the favor, both of them lying half on their backs, half on their sides. When the heat of Hawke’s mouth enveloped him he nearly lost it - he had to dig his fingers into the flesh of Hawke’s ass to keep from coming there and then.

Sebastian wrapped his arm around Hawke’s hip for leverage, and took his cock as far into his mouth as he could. With eyes closed in concentration he moved his head forwards, taking Hawke’s member down his throat, swallowing around it.

“ _Fuck_!” he heard the rogue exclaim. “Do that again!”

And he did - several times in fact, until Hawke was moaning and writhing under his ministrations. Sebastian rolled over on his back, pulling Hawke along with him until the rogue’s hips was positioned over his head. He wrapped his lips around Hawke’s length and with his hands on Hawke’s ass, urged him to thrust down into Sebastian’s mouth.

It didn’t take long before Hawke was completely lost to pleasure, thrusting eratically while Sebastian fought for breath and loved every second of it.

“Damn”, Hawke said, his voice ragged, “I, I’m -” and then he was coming, in Sebastian’s mouth and down his throat, and Sebastian swallowed it all.

Hawke collapsed to the side, panting for breath, and Sebastian stroked himself while he waited for the rogue to recover.

Hawke sat up, and fixed him with an intense look. “That was...” He chuckled. “That was pretty good.”

“Pretty good? Clearly I need to try harder.”

Hawke grinned. “Try harder, and you might just kill me.” Then he noticed how Sebastian was still stroking himself, and his expression turned feral. “Come here.”

He made Sebastian lie on his back with a pillow stuffed under his hips and his legs spread. Sebastian didn’t think he’d ever been this turned on before as Hawke stared down at him like he wanted to eat him whole. 

“Now it’s my turn”, Hawke growled, and leaned over the side of the bed to pick something up off the floor - a round jar.

“You came prepared”, Sebastian observed, a rush of arousal making his cock twitch and his head spin.

“What can I say - I just love it when a plan comes together.” Hawke unscrewed the lid off the jar and settled himself between Sebastian’s legs.

Sebastian was nearly shivering with anticipation at the first nudge of Hawke’s slicked up fingers at his entrance. He let out a strangled moan as Hawke pushed the first finger in. 

“You like that”, Hawke grinned.

“ _Maker_ , yes!”

Sebastian gripped the sheets as Hawke worked a second finger into him, and then a third. His whole body felt like it was on fire, and he caught himself moaning and begging Hawke for more. Then, abruptly, the fingers were gone and Sebastian lifted his head to see Hawke stroke himself, hard once again.

“Hawke”, he moaned, “ _fuck me_.”

And he did.

Sebastian knew he wasn’t going to last long as Hawke pushed inside, stretching and filling him further than he thought was possible. He held on to Hawke’s broad shoulders, pushing himself against the rogue until they were pressed flush together. 

“ _Tight_ ”, Hawke muttered against his shoulder, gathering himself for a moment before he started to move.

At Hawke’s first slow thrust Sebastian dug his nails into the rogue’s shoulders, scratching down his back as Hawke picked up the pace. Hawke was big, and it _hurt_ , but it was so good, it was  _perfect_ , and his moans turned into half choked screams as Hawke pulled back and pounded into him, again and again. Hawke grabbed one of Sebastian’s legs and hoisted it over his shoulder, and Sebastian reached over his head and grabbed onto the headboard.

Sebastian could feel his orgasm approaching slowly, the lust in his belly curling tighter and tighter, muscles in his stomach clenching and he was close, _so close_ , and then his mind was filled with a blinding white light and he was coming, untouched cock jerking between them and seed spilling over his chest.

For a moment he felt as though he was about to pass out - the room was growing darker around him and he could only hear his own heartbeat thundering in his ears. But soon his head was clearing up somewhat, and he heard Hawke moan.

“Relax, Seb”, he grunted, and Sebastian realized that he was clenching around Hawke, still inside him. With a deep breath he forced himself to relax into the matress, and Hawke resumed his thrusting.

It was almost overwhelming to have Hawke move inside him so soon, but it didnt last long before the rogues thrusts became erratic and then he came, spilling himself inside Sebastian with a cry.

For a long time neither of them moved. Hawke lay motionless on top of him, face buried against his neck, and Sebastian could hear his breathing slowly calming down. Then Hawke stirred, pulling out of him with a grunt, and rolled to the side.

Sebastian turned his head and looked at Hawke. _This is the part where I get dressed and ask him to kindly get out_. But when he tried to sit up Hawke reached out a hand and pulled him back down, drawing him close and putting his arms around him, and that was it.

Sebastian closed his eyes, and felt at ease.

“Sebastian”, Hawke said, his voice a low rumble right next to his ear. “I’m going to rule this city. Somehow, I’m going to make sure that every soul in Kirkwall knows the name Garett Hawke.”

Sebastian looked up at the ceiling and remembered the face of his eldest brother - his good-looking, well-spoken, pious brother - mother’s favorite, father’s pride and joy. Heir to the throne. A wave of resentment welled up inside Sebastian. He would have done almost _anything_...

Sighing, he closed his eyes, and wondered how long he could get by in Kirkwall on eighty sovereigns.


End file.
